Keep Right: Winter

By Rj Waltz

Rick Harding is considered far and wide a 'saint' when it comes to women. When a woman dates, has sex with, or even talks to him, she will find the love of her life. To Rick, this is a curse. His polyamorous boss and adoptive father, Cj McKay, orders him to visit the quaint little town of Angel Falls in order to help piece his life back together. Before he can even remove the packing tape, Cj sends his biological teenage son Scott to Rick under the guise of giving him life experience.

Hazel Blaire is a nervous wreck of a woman who has seen every specialist under the sun. She can't handle the news when her therapist moves to Angel Falls, so she packs her bags and follows her from the big city. Hazel attempts to make new friends, often with disastrous results.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rj Waltz
• Release date: Apr 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311766069

Rj Waltz

"If you are reading this, you are checking me out. xD" That's a little line I saw scrawled across the back of my middle school crush's bell bottoms. We didn't work out, later on in life, but that's what life is all about. The journey. I am a big fan of the sentiment that, "There is no story not worth telling," which is, of course, from the PSP game Final Fantasy 7: Crisis Core. Of all places. As a result, I am a media sponge, so if it's got a good story, I want to check it out. If you'd like to share a story with me, I will love it and you, but make sure to let me know to keep it a secret if you'll die of embarrassment. Please.

Book preview

Keep Right

RJ Waltz

Copyright 2016 by Chad Horton

Smashwords Edition

This one, I wrote for me.

Special thanks to Emily for putting up with me.

I'd also like to thank my college professor for forcing me to write non-genre fiction in her class. This is the result of that. I'm only a little sorry.

Chapter 1

The small compact car shuttered, its wheels slipping and sliding on the icy country road underneath. The back of the car fishtailed out of control, swaying from side to side violently. It flung straight towards an oncoming eighteen wheeler, which blared its horn in panicked response. He sighed, releasing his grip on the wheel in resignation. This ending wasn't ideal.

Rick, are you even listening? her angelic voice roused him from his small fantasy.

Of course. It would be rude of me not to pay attention to you, Rick replied, barely attempting to feign interest.

Okay, good. Because... Well, I kinda have to tell you something. It's kind of important, she said, fidgeting with the fancy dinner napkin in a futile attempt to alleviate her anxious energy. He arched an eyebrow while observing her hands quizzically. The realization of the reason for the fancy dinner at the fancy restaurant washed over him. He felt almost instant relief. Although he knew what would be coming next, at least he wouldn't be expected to propose to her. He found himself unexpectedly craving a cigarette, despite being a nonsmoker. I, uh, she continued, avoiding his bored gaze, I had sex with Joey.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. Joey happened to be her best friend, partner in crime, and woefully unqualified therapist. Most importantly than that, however, was the fact that Joey was her best female friend. That's definitely a new one, he replied, unable to keep the shock out of his tone.

It's not you, she mumbled, mostly due to an obligation, It's just that, well, ever since you mentioned how much you appreciate the strong friendship bond that she and I share, I couldn't stop thinking about that. You do remember that, don't you?

He sighed in frustration, Yes, I do remember that. Leave it to me to point out the crack in the wall that will lead to it crumbling down on top of me. You'd think I would've learned some sort of lesson by now. This would be the part where I'm obligated to ask if what you did with Joey meant anything, and plead with you to try and fix our relationship. Not that you or I actually want to do any of that.

Don't be silly- she began.

Rick cut her off, I should have known better. Look, just follow your heart, or whatever. Don't worry about me. He could almost hear his stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots as the knife pierced into his gut. Rick stood up, pulling his coat off of the back of his chair. He had to get out of that insufferably stuffy restaurant, and quick. One more thing, he added, turning back to her, Give me your menthol's. You owe me that much.

You don't smoke, she pointed out. She looked at him with a slight pang of fear in her eyes.

Yeah, well, I don't date lesbians, either, he replied coldly. She stood up, slammed her cigarette pack onto the tabletop and stormed out the door without another word, clearly glad to be rid of him. Calmly he picked up the pack and pulled one cigarette out of it with his teeth. He fished out a lighter and went to light the tip, but noticed the eyes of all of the patrons in the restaurant staring at him with disgust and anger. What? he proclaimed out loud, Never seen a guy get his heart ripped out in a fancy setting before? Mind your fucking business. His waiter handed him the bill while wearing a stern look. That bitch, Rick cursed. He stuffed a wad of cash into the billfold and shoved it into the waiter's hands. The waiter and hostess hurriedly escorted him out of the restaurant before he could cause more of a scene.

Once outside of the restaurant, he felt the usual cocktail of emotions; guilt, anger, sadness, regret. Rick lit the cigarette. Disgusting. He kept smoking as he walked down the sidewalk, ignoring the disgusted sneers of the disapproving bystanders he passed. The cigarette helped his mood a little, but he felt that what he could really use was an incredibly stiff drink. He dropped the half-smoked cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out in front of a bar. A chilly wind rustled his sun-damaged hair, signaling with it the end of Autumn. He grabbed the door handle and pulled the bar door open. Two girls caught his eye the minute he entered the bar.

Hello ladies, he said with a smug grin, I'm having one hell of a day. How's about you guys buy me a shot, eh? What do you say? The girls rolled their eyes, but couldn't help giggling at his outrageous request. Rick sauntered into the bar.

The phone rang, its sound muffled by the countless whiskey bottles stacked on top of it. Its vibration against the hollowed glass woke Rick up from his drunken half-sleep. He clutched his forehead, wincing painfully at the miniscule amount of light shining out of his cell phone screen. Once he untangled himself from the net of feminine arms and legs sharing the bed with him, he scrambled over to the ringing phone and brushed the glass bottles off of it. He flipped it open and answered it without bothering to look at the caller ID.

What, he whispered into it.

Rick Harding. How the hell are ya? a jovial voice belted into his ear. Rick's clenched his teeth in response to the unexpectedly loud noise. Typical of Cj McKay to belt in his ear in the event of catching him at his most hungover.

Now's not a good time, Cj, he said, rubbing his temple in irritation.

Nonsense. Now is the perfect time. No son of mine, adopted or otherwise, is going to drown himself in whiskey, women, and work. You need a change of scenery, kiddo, and I'm in desperate need of getting my old editor back, he sounded unusually serious.

Please don't call me that, he groaned.

It says 'Editor' on those business cards you so desperately needed to have. Look, I'm sending you the name of a small town. I'm not promising anything more than usual, but I hear the place does wonders. It's where I met Angelica.

Not it's not, Rick retorted, immediately calling him out on his bluff.

Okay, fine, it's not, but stay there for at least a few months anyway. You even get to have constant, unending communication with me as an added bonus! It'll be like you never left. Rick heard the distinct sound of a champagne bottle cork pop in the background.

Wait, what's that sound? You're seriously celebrating my forced vacation, aren't you? he asked, annoyed.

Crystal is really worried about you, Cj responded with a quick excuse, Also, try looking at it in another way. Either you go on this mini-vacation where you can forget all about your latest relationship mishaps, or you're fired. Click. He sighed. What a selfish bastard. Vomiting noises echoed out from his room. He felt the overwhelming urge to pack suddenly come over him.

Hazel felt the muscles in her chest constrict. Her hands shook uncontrollably, in spite of her intense desire to keep them under control. Her lungs faltered, causing her to gasp for air. She leaned against the nearest unoccupied subway pole, desperate to avoid all of the eyes of everyone around her while her knees threatened to buckle underneath her. A few people approached her out of concern for her well-being, which only made the attack worsen even further than before. She held out her hands in a desperate attempt to non-verbally show them how she was going to be fine. A pit of dread formed in her stomach, which dissipated slowly as the eyes fixating on her began looking away, writing her off as another crazy lady terrorizing the subway. Her phone rang out in her pocket, which she ignored. There was no way she could handle talking on the phone after what she had just gone through. After the third ring, she pulled it out and silenced it at the unspoken behest of the select few people who looked her way in annoyance. All she wanted was for them to find something else to look at that wasn't her. The conductor's jumbled speech in the speaker overhead announced the subway's next stop. She tapped her fingernail against the metal pole as she glared at the subway doors opening at an excruciatingly slow pace. Once she managed to squeeze out of the suffocating metal tube, Hazel bolted as fast as her legs could carry her. She ran, shoving her way through the crowds of commuters until she got at least a block away from the subway's entrance. As she stopped to catch her breath, her phone rang out again, vibrating wildly in her pocket.

Hello? Hazel answered it, breathing hard.

Hey, where are you? Are you close?

I just got off of the subway, she explained, gasping, I'll be there in five minutes.

Did it happen again? Hazel gritted her teeth at the question. Of course it happened again. It always happened when she took the subway. Every time it happened, she called Hazel and asked that question. Hazel couldn't help but get annoyed every single time.

Can I talk about it when I get in? I'm right outside the door, Hazel grabbed the handle to her therapist's office door and tugged it open. She exchanged goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The therapist's assistant hurriedly waved her to the back room, and Hazel complied, slipping by without a word. Her therapist sat behind her gigantic desk, staring at Hazel through her thick black-rimmed glasses with her hands folded in front of her. Hazel was greatly bothered by how beautiful and flawless her therapist always looked. Perfect chest, perfect teeth, perfect hair, flawless complexion. Hazel could never really figure out why she ever felt the need to work at a normal boring job. All she would really have to do was snap her finger, and all the men in the world would jump at the chance to give her anything she ever wanted.

Have a seat, Ms. Blaire, she said, holding a hand out towards one of the chairs in front of her desk, How was the subway ride today?

Hazel sighed, stressed, I don't understand why you won't let me take a cab here. It was agony for me, like it always is. But you know that. I'm sorry.

Listen, before we get started, I have some news. I am moving my practice to a smaller town a few miles from here. I realize how sudden this kind of news is for you, so I can reschedule your session with another therapist, if you want, she explained apologetically.

Hold on. Why are you moving away? Hazel asked, curious.

Another center has need of my services, she replied. Hazel suspected that she was lying to her, but said nothing. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience this brings you, Ms. Blaire.

What are you apologizing for? I have no intention of switching therapists, Hazel said quickly.

The therapist leaned back in her chair, I'm not sure what you mean.

Look, you've been saying that I should get a change of scenery, right? I have a hard time doing a simple thing like trying to ride the subway here in the city, much less trying to live a normal life. So, how about I move to this town, too?

Her therapist's eyes widened, Are you being serious right now? That's quite a big leap for you, Hazel. I wouldn't want you to move on my account, though. Are you absolutely sure about this?

I've made my decision, Hazel said bravely, Just let me know where your new practice is located, and I'll meet you there, okay? Hazel smiled with as much courage as she could muster in order to try and convince her that she wasn't actually completely terrified. She had lived in the big city for her entire life. Everyone she knew lived in it. However, that didn't change the fact that she felt deeply miserable. A brief thought of being able to move back did cross her mind, which made her feel a little better about her snap decision.

It didn't take Hazel very long at all to pack up all of her belongings. After all, she always kept half of her things packed up in boxes at all times in case of an unexpected eviction. Once she loaded all of her boxes into the back of the rental moving van, she drove the several hour trip until she arrived at the small town. As she turned off of the interstate, she scanned the street signs like a hawk until she found her new address. She stopped in front of her new house. Well, house might have been a bit of a stretch. She wanted to rent a house while she was there in order to find out what it was like to have a yard, but the only place that was in her price range was a beaten up two-bedroom which looked like it had been savagely abused by several golf clubs. A whisper of a smile crossed her lips. It was perfect for her. Making the best of it, Hazel backed the truck into the driveway and opened up the back. She unloaded her boxes into the living room, dragging the heavier stuff across the ground. The couch she brought screeched against the cement walkway as she shoved at it. Once she stuffed it through the front door, however, it slid well across the carpet. Slowly she lowered it down the stairs towards the living room, carefully trying to keep herself from losing grip on it. Her bed was much easier, since she was able to slide it effortlessly along the floor. She dropped the bottom mattress on the carpeted floor, followed by the top mattress. Exhausted, she plopped down on the bed and let out a load sigh. Grabbing her phone, Hazel ordered a pizza to celebrate her accomplishment. While she waited, she looked outside of her window. After about thirty minutes, the doorbell rang. She hopped out of her bed and hurried down the small flight of three stairs to the front door. Hazel opened the door to find the pizza kid waiting impatiently for her.

Hey, he said nonchalantly, You order a pepperoni? I thought this house was abandoned.

She nodded, I did. I just moved here, actually.

Great, he replied, handing the pizza box over to her after she handed him some cash, Enjoy your pizza. Oh, and welcome to Angel Falls. Hazel shut the front door, locking the deadbolt several times in rapid succession before taking the pizza into the kitchen. A few snowflakes sprinkled down from the gray sky, a promise of the winter to come.

Chapter 2

A thick blanket of snow smothered every inch of the small, sleepy town of Angel Falls. It stuck to the street signs, sides of houses, and anywhere else it would fit. The snow fell in such a thick sheet that it made attempts to see further than a few feet through it nearly impossible. Naturally, the inhabitants of the tiny town took refuge in their cozy homes to avoid the blizzard altogether, huddled around their wood burning stoves. The dense snow forced most of the usual traffic to stay off of the streets. The only vehicle brave enough to venture out in such a horrific storm was the large van barreling down the interstate.

Rick took a deep swig from his glass bottle before turning sharply onto his exit, narrowly keeping himself from missing it by mere seconds. While his van's tires struck out on the unpaved snowy roads, he let out an audible groan. The absolute last thing he wanted to have to deal with was getting himself stranded in the middle of nowhere right smack dab in the middle of a raging blizzard. He slowed the van to a crawl, carefully inspecting the town as he tried navigating its snow-covered streets. There couldn't have been more than a thousand residents in the entire town, by his estimate. His moving van's back tires slid sideways, and he turned the wheel to correct it before the whole van flipped onto its side. Rick dug through the bag of junk food sitting next to him, searching for his map. Once he found it, he looked up in time to stare into the wide curious eyes of a large deer standing stupidly in the middle of the road. Cursing, he jerked the wheel to the side, barely avoiding turning the deer into a grotesque meat smear all over the front of his vehicle. The van spun around a few times before finally coming to a stop in the ditch, spraying the deer with waves of snow. The stupid deer skipped off, oblivious to its attempted murder. Rick flipped the bird at the deer and pulled back onto the road, his heart pounding frantically in his chest.

He parked the van on the shoulder of a side street. The picture of the apartment building looked similar to what Cj sent him, but, unfortunately for Rick, all of the street signs were coated in a thick layer of snow. He stepped out of his warm vehicle into the frigid windy storm. After discarding his empty bottles and snack food bags into a nearby dumpster, he headed into the apartment complex. He explored the first floor, studying the numbers outside of the doors to figure out which one would be his new place for the next few months. While searching, Rick caught a fleeting glance of a woman scurrying up the stairs to the next floor. Shrugging, he managed to locate the number Cj gave to him. Luckily for him, his place was on the bottom floor, so he wouldn't have to snap his back like a twig carrying in his junk. Rick tried his key, surprised to find that it worked quite well. The taste in furniture of his new roommate appeared to be minimalist. The living room housed nothing more than a couch with a television, and the only furniture in the dining room was a black folding table with several folded chairs propped up against the wall. Without wasting any time, he propped the doors open with his heavier boxes and then proceeded to unload all of his belongings into the spare room. In New Heaven, he knew his stuff could easily fill a one bedroom apartment. However, here in the small town, he easily fit all of his things in with room to spare. His only furniture consisted of a queen-sized bed, an ancient lamp from his college days, a night stand for the lamp, a laptop caddy, and a beat up old officer chair with jammed wheels. While stuffing all of his clothes into the monstrous closet, he was interrupted by his ringing phone.

He flipped it open, Harding.

Hey killer, Cj responded, Find the place alright? How's the weather?

Cj, Rick groaned, exasperated, It's shit. You said you were having my car delivered, didn't you? It's not here. Also, the fucking wildlife already tried to kill me off. What hell have you sentenced me to?

Cj laughed, I'm glad to see you're getting along with the locals, at least. Here's the thing about the car... I have a good explanation, I swear.

I have a feeling that I'm going to kill you, Rick grumbled, What'd you do?

The person bringing your car, well… he's going to be staying with you for a little while, Cj sounded falsely apologetic.

Rick fought the overwhelming urge to embed his phone into the drywall, "God damn it, Cj. It's Scott, isn't it? Of course it is. Why wouldn't you send him here?"

If you let me explain…

Damn it, Cj! Rick said hotly, First you exile me to the boonies, and now you want me to babysit for you, too?! You know better than anyone how much work I have to do.

Look, it was Angelica's idea, okay? Cj deflected.

Oh, yeah, of course it was, Rick interrupted, seething, 'Hey, you know that geeky angelic virgin math kid of ours? Let's send him to his alcoholic womanizing brother's new place.' Real smart parenting move, Cj. Dad of the year.

Are you done?

Lucky for you, yes.

As I was saying, Cj continued, Scott's been getting bullied pretty heavily, lately. There was some incident at his school. At first, we all thought it was nothing, but Crystal is concerned that he's gonna get badly injured next time. He's all but withdrawn into his math problems. None of us can get a word out of him about it. I mean, don't get me wrong, kid's a genius. Someday he'll probably string together the math that dooms all of humanity, but we feel that he needs a change of scenery. The doorbell of the apartment rang. Without glancing up, Rick stormed to the door and opened it up.